I’m sitting between Gustav and Hannain the homeroom of life, wondering howto make sense of everything coming throughthe loudspeaker, the stream of non sequitursthat passes for news and the endless stormof chatter that follows, each of us choosingsides without bothering much to choose ourwords. Life looks and sounds a great deal likea middle school cafeteria. Shouldn’t speakingour minds beg us to use our minds before wespeak? Instead, our lunch table politics buildallegiances based on fear or desperation or,for the lucky ones, popularity, none of whichdoes much for real conversation: “Hello – andI really mean that.” We worry about hurricanes,but the small winds of breath that carry ourwords are more destructive. We wear labelslike bunkers around our hearts and look onlyat those who look and act like us. We learnedour vocabulary and jumped through all theright hoops, but face it: we’re seventh graders.

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One Response to home room

Hazel

September 17, 2008 at 6:39 pm

Houston and surroundings have now experienced Ike and our chatter is all over the place. Thankfully most (95%) of the people with whom I have contact are grateful to be alive and have their homes. A few have damage that can be repaired – only one cannot repair the damage or comprehend their loss. We seem to take the moment to ask how each is really doing – not the cursory hi,fine sort of answer. Try care and concern happens even in seventh grade. 🙂